Conjure up dreams
by ropesburg
Summary: Naruto is in a bit of a bind with this whole soul mate thing. Modern AU meets Red String of Fate. KakaNaru.


**A/N:** This is a modern AU where everyone magically accepts the Red string of fate and it's totally a thing.

Explanation for the **Red string of fate** legend: "According to this East Asian belief, the gods tie an invisible red cord around the ankles of those that are destined to meet one another in a certain situation or help each other in a certain way. There are different variations including that those connected to this string which can stretch but never break are destined to be lovers, even married at some point."

This is my own (highly unorthodox) version of it, aka watch me dabble in themes way above my pay-level.

* * *

When Naruto woke up, it was on the floor. He blinked, groaning, regarding the underside of his bed with a muddled expression. As he sat up, he saw a slight red string, neatly tied around his wrist. It came from under the bedroom door, an elastic, hair-thin band. He pulled on it, hesitantly moving his arm. The thread gave, elongating. Looking around him, he saw that his pillow was on the floor as well. His thick blue cover with the frogs was halfway there, lounging from his bed down onto the hardwood floor. The string was light, a soft pressure around his arm.

It was still early in the morning and no one noticed as he slung open the gate by the courtyard. As a small glimmer the string ran over the fence, continuing beyond the corner of Abarose Road. Steel shields had been drawn down before every store and restaurant as protection from looters and the like. Dull street art had been drawn across them, different posters displaying bands and sales were stuck to the dirty metal. His red string of fate floated down the street, wicked in its anonymity. His own reflection fluttered past, chalked up performances reappearing for each window. He looked tired, done in, dark circles under his eyes, a slump to his shoulders. He crossed the square with the pessimistic looking fountain and its steely fish, avoiding the hazy decaying water that it sprouted. Like thick sloshing hunger the smell of newly baked bread washed over him. Santino, the ever-smiling owner of Naruto's favorite bakery, waved from behind the counter. Naruto waved back. Soon the noises from the awakening village crept up, jingling of bells from kids and their bicycles, wives arguing with their unfaithful men, scavenging big crows tearing at the tightly sealed garbage bags with their straight, black beaks. He followed the string around the town for another hour, went by two parking lots and the local, petite library.

Around midday he wound up in front of the old shrine at the edge of town. He sought shelter in the shadow made by one of the stone statues. From his spot on the hill he saw the boxy houses, liberally spread across the land. Two weeks earlier, he and Kakashi had spoken about the appearances of red strings that plagued the population, allegedly leading to your soul mate. They'd written it off as nonsense, a silly roundabout way of telling whoever you cared about that you did just that.

"But," Kakashi had offered, edging down the newspaper on the kitchen table between a nearly full carton of juice and his plate with scrambled eggs. "If your thread leads to someone else than the person you're with, then you should go with the second person."

Naruto wiped his mouth with a dotted IKEA napkin, which he then crumpled with his shaking hand, putting it on his cleared plate. "Why?"

"Well, if it's _fated_..."

Naruto looked at him for a long time, even after Kakashi had accepted his non-reply as a reply and gone back to his newspaper. Kakashi worked as a university teacher. This day he'd donned a pale gray shirt, going nicely against his bantering eyes. His fingertips had become stained from the newspaper's ink, and would leave blotches as faint bruises on things he touched. Unruly as always, his hair trudged over his eyes, whirring in pools around his temples and his neck. One sleeve was rolled up, the other cuff simply folded. There were tiny crumbs left over from his croissant on his pullover and as soon as he got up he'd brush them off as he did every Monday through Friday, without fail. Naruto, having put his head in his hand, watched Kakashi until he left him alone in the empty kitchen, the clock ticking faintly until Naruto got up to leave.

It had seemed prophetic, that conversation, the lines they had spoken in a trudging weekday mood. And now there he was, sunken down behind an uneven granite carving, with a fragile thread spun around his wrist. He'd been wandering about town for hours, while Kakashi was out of town. The red string of fate was sparsely intertwined with the buildings, with the alleys and the homes. _Kakashi was out of town._

Naruto followed the thread down the hillside, trudging after it while frowning. It led him past an orderly preschool, its windows full of homemade stickers and rainbow colored paper cut-outs. Broader now, the thread glimmered more intensely, a vapid red against the tired autumn manners. He walked up main street, his steps slowing down until he stopped entirely. To his right, further down the street, was a little brick house with white windows, a big inviting entrance. The tread nestled its way in between the heavy green doors with a cast iron door knocker. He walked past the windows, holding his breath.

With the sunlight on her back, in the window furthest away, she was sewing. Her hair showed a golden tint from the orange outside light, sweeping over her shoulders and fuzzy light sweater. Naruto sunk down on a bench across the street.

She had used to come up from behind, enclosing him with her arms, putting her ear against his back. He would put his hand on her hands, her body breathing against his. Carefully, over a course of a year they built a home three floors up, spacious and clean, with soft blankets like clouds draping the sofa. They often touched. Her family allowed him in, making room in their routines for one more. She cared for flowers, for children, stopping to exclaim "Dog!" every time she saw one, dragging Naruto with her across the sidewalk to ask for permission to pet it.

He'd told her kind things, untrue things and vicious lies, fluttering compliments, many pieces that he lived without. When he put the ring on her finger they had smiled vividly, two young hopeful people in love. Love was easy. Whenever she kissed his forehead it made life spill out of his bones, something tender and inaccessible that only made sense for short moments at a time. Love ate a gnarly ring around his bony wrist, an apt bow tie woven out of mutual agreements and hours he'd spent doing the dishes while she cooked. Naruto put his face in his hands, burying it in a too shallow trench.

 _Hinata._

Always her, until last fall. It took weeks, _weeks_ , until he explained that you can't marry someone when you're in love with someone else and he didn't hear her crying for long because the elevator was on the right floor and the thick door slid shut within moments. It had used to be easy, steady, heart-felt, what he had. What he had, with her.

He stayed on the bench until the afternoon came by. Her work would end around four, sending her out the doorway and straight onto his spot on the bench. Wiping his eyes with his left hand, he went to work on the knot. Hesitantly, unsure of how much pressure to apply, pulling on its ends. It didn't give, staying put. He yanked on it. Gritting his teeth, he placed his wrist behind his raised up knee, pulling harder, bruising his skin. When it broke it did so without as much as a sigh, slowly floating down to meet the dark bench, a scarlet piercing strand, woolly at the edges.

He stumbled in through the apartment door after dark, a long time later, far past any sense of dignity and grace. Dropping his keys in the bowl on the commode in the hall, he then went to the bedroom where the lights were off. He got undressed daftly, ripping off his socks. Gently pulling down the cover and getting in, he breathed carefully.

"Hey," he mumbled, stuffing his arm under the pillow.

Kakashi's light hair looked like a messy beacon out at sea, a radioactive archipelago of questionable safety.

"Sorry I'm late," he went on, speaking to the stiff backside. "I forgot that you were coming home today."

Naruto sighed.

"Something upsetting happened, and I got distracted, and I'm _sorry._ "

Out in the kitchen the refrigerator coughed, absentmindedly whirring. In the night any stray cars echoed off the streets with the sound of a wave washing up on the shore.

"What happened?" Kakashi asked, tersely.

"It's hard to explain. But the main thing is that it's over now."

Rolling over, Kakashi turned his way, "Sounds vague."

Naruto nodded, "This entire day was weird. Maybe I'll tell you tomorrow."

They were quiet for a while, only their bodies melted closer, seeking forgiveness in their limbs.

"I love you," Naruto breathed, Kakashi's face close to his. "And I'm glad you're here."

"I am too."


End file.
